For the Love of Tricks
by zharza
Summary: SPOILERS FOR THOR: THE DARK WORLD. Saraya is a woman of many talents. Somehow, she is able to see through all of Loki's forms. To keep himself hidden from the Asgardians, Loki demands that Saraya stay with him, but he can't help but become drawn to this dreamer . . . REVIEWS WELCOME, NETAGIVE OR POSITIVE.
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello!_**

**_After a few negative reviews, I've done a more-or-less overhaul of the first chapter - of which the second chapter is now included in. Not much has changed - I've run a spell check through this _twice_ and have found nothing in terms of horrible spelling mistakes . . . unfortunately the guest that reviewed did not review in his/her profile so that I could tell them that the spelling/grammar problem has been more of less fixed._**

**_Regardless, I feel that I should remind you guys that I have a habit of uploading fics without really editing them - I fix them up after they've been posted. So yeah. :D_**

**_PROBLEM SOLVED! :D_**

**_Once again, for the second time, there are kind-of-sorta-major spoilers for Thor: The Dark World. For you guys that have yet to see it. So TURN BACK NOW._**

* * *

Saraya would have been sleeping soundly if she had not have dreamt of Loki. It didn't seem to be a dream that lasted for hours – only a few split seconds of flashes of different angles viewing him. While it was a relief that he had finally let down his guard to allow her to dream of him, she couldn't help but wonder why. Another question was simple;

Why was Loki on the throne?

Saraya was a woman of many talents. She was known as a very wise woman, with many of her own hidden secrets. One of these talents, although many believed it untrue, was said to be premonition. Normally, this occurred during her sleep, as if a blurry dream of which you couldn't forget. She witnessed fate, not the future. It seemed that no matter how much she wanted to change a future past, she could not. She had witnessed the ends to many around her.

She was beginning to doubt this 'talent' herself, however, when she saw Loki in Odin's place on the throne.

No, no. Not possible. She had seen the Trickster die in his brother's arms. The word was quickly, but quietly spreading around Asgard. Surely, he was dead?

But no. There, in the flashes of her dream, she witnessed what she would have called impossible. When her eyes opened, there was no hesitation in getting out of bed and getting dressed. She needed to speak to Odin immediately, if it was not already too late, to stop it. While she knew Loki personally, and did . . . well . . . _care_ for him, she couldn't risk him harming more people.

In what she'd call a simple grey gown with her dark blonde hair unkempt and those strangely silver eyes tired, she set off to the throne. But she did not go unarmed.

* * *

"Fandral."

"Ah, Saraya!" The blonde man held out his arms as if she were to come close to hug him. He dropped them when she made no movement towards him. "It has been a long time-"

"It has been a week, but that is not why I am here. I wish to see Odin – immediately."

The swordsman seemed shocked, as if she had just slapped him (and she wished she had after what had happened between the two the week before), but nevertheless he refocused quickly. "He is in his chambers."

"Good," She pushed past him, making a bee-line straight to the King. Thankfully, the blonde ladies man did not follow, simply shrugging it off. "The more 'alone' he is, the better." She muttered.

Regardless of the dagger sheathed by her side, the guards did not seem bothered by Saraya's presence. Not even when she started to rapidly bang on Odin's door. "Odin!" She yelled. "I must speak with you!"

She found it strange that there were no questions asked by the guards next to the door. They simply stood there, motionless, eyes trained on the dreamer as she waited for the door to open – if it _did_ open. There was still a slim chance that Loki had gotten here before she had. She studied the soldiers out of the corner of her eyes – golden armor, a shield and their weapon. There would have been nothing strange about them, if they hadn't of remained silent.

It was a short moment before the door opened to reveal the man in a bathrobe, still wet from bathing. But it was not the right man. She was instead greeted with the tall and lean figure, dark hair dripping onto the robe, but not his voice. "Saraya-"

It was Odin's voice, but not his body. Perhaps someone had cursed him, and what she had witnessed in her dream was simply that of an Odin-cursed-to-Loki body or something. And the soldiers did not seem fazed by seeing Odin like this, if it was Odin at all.

She didn't bother to wait for an invitation, pushing past him and closing the door behind her as she entered his dwelling. No, she needed proper answers. She could not just answer them herself.

"Saraya, you cannot just simply barge in here!"

"I needed to see you. About an urgent matter."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, this didn't feel right. This wasn't Odin's tone of voice. Although though the Loki-figured 'Odin' had only spoken few words, this much was strangely obvious to her. How, she did not know.

"What can possibly be so urgent that-?"

Seeing little choice, the woman twirled and held the dagger against the man's throat. It didn't necessarily shock him, but he didn't move to retaliate. "Because I have reason to believe that you're not who you're meant to be."

There was a brief moment, where the two were just simply staring at each other, daring the other to make a move, and then Loki followed through. In a quick sweep of the hand, he not only disarmed the woman, but he pushed her by her own neck to the closest wall and held her there. His grip wasn't tight enough to choke her, but any more and she'd be struggling for breath.

"Tut tut, Saraya. Did you come here with a plan to disperse me, or did a woman of your intellect simply forget?" It was now clearly the voice of the Trickster. There was a hint of humour in his tone as Saraya struggled under his grip. He glanced at the dagger he now held in his hand, and then returned his narrowed eyes to the woman. "If I wanted to dispose of you, you'd already be gone."

She had no doubt about that.

"How do you see me?"

She frowned a little, pushing against him again. "Maybe you're slipping."

"No." He said firmly. "You came here for me. An urgent matter."

"Because you're _supposed_ to be dead!" Saraya snapped.

"You dreamt, didn't you?" His grip around her neck slackened a little. "My, my, those dreams must be real."

Not _this _again. "You know full well that they are the truth." She pushed at him once more, and finally, he let go. Slowly, he handed her back her dagger. "Perhaps you should get dressed."

That grin of his flashed across his face. "It has been a long time, Saraya."

"Not long enough."

Without any warning whatsoever, Loki pulled her in close, lips smashing against hers.

She was tempted to slap him again, struggling to remove herself from his grip as those lips of his pushed against hers. He had done this before – sought her out, usually because he wanted company. Was Loki really lonely? Saraya supposed that it was possible, after all that had happened. Posing as Odin could not have been an easy task for the Trickster. Although she had come here looking for answers to her dream, it seemed that Loki was just as desperate to find her.

She supposed that this being the first time in almost a year that she dreamt of Loki could not be a coincidence. He wanted her to find him.

Damn him.


	2. Chapter 2

**_So I went through this chapter and had a look for possible report-worthy mistakes . . . and I don't see any. :/ I found _one_ facepalm-worthy mistake in the third paragraph, but that has been fixed. _****_  
_**

**_Also: Summary has been fixed!_**

* * *

This entire situation was starting to give Saraya a headache. Thor had spoken of Loki's death – he _died in his arms!_ Was it all just an illusion of Loki's? Did he simply trick Thor like he had the first time he disappeared?

The first time Loki disappeared . . .

At that the time he was said to be missing, Saraya knew just where to find him. His secret way through the Bifrost was not a secret to her, not after he revealed it to her as a show of good faith when he had stolen something of hers. She sought him out _once_, and regretted it. His mind and heart had become twisted with his goal of ruling a realm, if not Asgard. His attempt on Midgard was what Saraya thought to be an attempt to hurt Thor in the painful of places. Thankfully, he had been unsuccessful in finding Jane Forster, of whom Thor had brought back to Asgard.

Loki already knew this, having been there the whole time. However, rumour travelled around the palace that the Midgardian Captain America had somehow set foot on Asgard . . . but Saraya had a feeling that the rumour was a silly joke of Loki's.

"Your eyes are brighter."

She had slapped him for attacking her lips earlier, but she could not say that she didn't enjoy it. She had usually enjoyed the company of the Trickster, when he was not out doing something he knew she'd frown upon or argue over. But she did not think it had been so long that he could not remember how bright her eyes were.

"They've always been like this."

"Not like this." He brushed his fingers across her cheek bone, examining them more closely. "It's as if they've become small orbs."

He looked tired – unbelievably so. Saraya didn't know how she managed to miss the extreme dark circles under the man's eyes. She leaned her head into his touch, and sighed. "Perhaps they get brighter with age. I have yet to notice."

He smiled – but only a little, removing his hand from her cheek as he laid back on the bed. "Did you miss me, Saraya?"

"Never."

It came out colder than she expected. But it was their agreement. He could come to her for guidance, and when she thought he had gone too far, she was capable of backing off. He almost broke this rule, when he first, temporarily, became King. Saraya always thought that it was simply the power of the throne corrupting his mind, but she was quick to realize that it was much more than that. His actions were that from a brewed hatred and jealously of his brother, over the many years of their lives. Finding out that he was not even born of Asgard was merely the tip of the ice burg, the trigger to all of his actions.

Well, not _all._

"I'm glad." He continued to stare at the ceiling.

"I always knew you'd return." She gazed at him. "It seems to be a never-ending cycle."

"Your 'cycle' has broken, then." He only moved his eyes to watch her. "I don't plan on leaving any time soon."

"You didn't intend on leaving the last two times. Not at the time before your plans for Midgard, and I doubt that you expected your brother to simply run to you for help with Jane Forster. Do not lie to me."

"I'm not."

"You _are_."

"Will you never stop contradicting me?"

She smiled a little. "Of course not. If I let men like you win the arguments, you would never stop walking over me."

He chuckled, closing his eyes.

There was a pause between the two of them, as Saraya thought about what to ask next. Why did he want her here? Was there a reason? Did he _need_ one?

"Why did you lure me here?"

He sighed. "I need guidance."

_Loki?_ Requiring _guidance_? He had asked for this before the whole debacle with the throne the first time, but he had not consulted once her since then. "With what?"

"I'm finding it difficult to keep in Odin's form. I believe that is how you can see me."

Saraya frowned. "Loki, there were two guards outside your door that didn't attempt to tackle you when _you_ answered the door."

"Yet _you_ still saw me." He sat up. "If you could see me-"

"Loki, I see a _lot_ of different things that no one else ever will." She took his hands. "I may just be immune to your abilities."

"Not possible."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"How did you _not?_" He furrowed his brow. "You have never been 'immune' to my abilities before."

"You've never used them on or against me. Nor has anyone else, for that matter."

He stood, making a frustrated sound as he paced towards the window. He didn't dare get too close to it, however, due to the risk of someone seeing him outside.

"My seeing you must not have been your original problem," Saraya pushed. "Why am I here, Loki?"

"I told you."

"Perhaps Odin's form is more difficult to hold because of your emotional attachment to him?" She offered.

Loki's soft glance through the window turned into a glare at his own reflection. "There _is_ no attachment."

It was practically a growl. He did not turn to face Saraya, nor did he move from his position. His jaw was tight and his glare did not leave the window.

"I meant that he, as well as Thor, are the last link you had to Frigga," She got up from the bed, clasping her hands in front of her. "But he did raise you, Loki."

"He _took_ me as a trophy!" He snarled, swinging around to face her, his eyes piercing her own. "A relic meant to be kept hidden, for a purpose that he could only _dream!_"

It was an uncontrollable rage that he kept hidden. Saraya would be lying if she said that she wasn't at all frightened, but she didn't dare convey it. She had been on the receiving end of these before – she knew how it worked. His cold and calculating eyes, meeting her own 'orb' eyes, did not phase her. Instead, taking a deep breath, she walked closer to him, taking his hands once more. "Perhaps the problem lies within your exhaustion."

"I am not _exhausted._" He scoffed, pulling away to stare back through the window.

"Your features state otherwise, Loki." Referring to, of course, the dark rings under his eyes. She followed his movements. "Tell me; when was the last time you slept? Or are Odin's duties getting the better of you."

He snapped. "I have been King before – I am capable of doing it again."

"Loki-"

"Enough!" He spun around again, clasping her wrists to keep her from moving further then a step away. "I am not discussing this further. Do not question my ability to rule."

"I was only-"

"Then _stop-_"

"Sir!"

Loki stopped speaking within an instant when the two heard the shout of a soldier outside. A green flash, but no change in his appearance through Saraya's eyes, had him headed towards the door. Opening it, his voice changed to that of Odin. "What is it?"

"Intruders-"

He responded immediately. "Assemble the guard. I will be with your shortly."

The soldier moved off quickly, nodding his head in respect. Without much hesitation, Loki moved back in the room, taking the spear that was resting against the wall. His gaze turned upon Saraya once more. "You cannot leave this room."

"Excuse me?"

She supposed that it was a logical decision, but a stupid one. She had kept many of Loki's secrets, never telling anyone anything he shared with her. Especially that of the secret way through the Bifrost. He had somehow managed to keep her in the dark and unable to dream of his fate – she was lucky she was able to even catch a glimpse of the fate of Thor on Midgard. Why, then, did he possibly expect her to go running off to someone such as Thor or the Warriors Three, or even Lady Sif if he allowed her to leave his chambers.

"You heard me. I cannot risk it."

Well, that nice of him.

Saraya narrowed her eyes. "You can be a pain in my side, sometimes."

"It's only a temporary measure."

And then he disappeared out the door, closing it behind him with the faint _click_ sound. With a frustrated sigh, Saraya returned to the 'King's bed and laid herself out on it. Now that Loki had unshielded himself, there was the possibility that if she slept, she'd see him.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Every paragraph 3 that I've written must be jinxed, because once again, I found a face-palm worthy mistake. ::sigh:: Fixed up._**

**_Just to remind you that every review counts! XD_**

* * *

_"We're surrounded."_

_"I can _see_ that."_

Very pale Asguardians with complete black eyes and a dark due circling their eyes started to converge on Saraya and Loki. The only tell-tale sign that it wasn't real was the vivid black-and-white colour of the whole dream. No true colours. Her irises practically disappeared into the whites of her full eyes because of it.

The two were back to back, Loki sporting a bruise on his forehead, random cuts randomly spreading across his face, his clothing ruffled, and splits in the sleeves. He didn't look entirely confident of himself, his eyes looking for a way out. Saraya was visibly shaking, pushing as close to Loki as physically possible, clutching her small dagger. Saraya was not built to fight. Sure, she could handle a bit of self-defence, but against around 12 attackers? Not likely. Not even with Loki around.

_"Do you have a plan?"_

There was silence from Loki for a second. _"There's no way out."_

Saraya looked up.

* * *

"Welcome back."

The woman opened her eyes at the sound of the voice. Loki's voice. Of course. She was in Loki's chambers.

"I never left."

"Not fully, no." He took a seat next to her on the bed. "But you didn't wake up."

Sitting up, Saraya rubbed her eyes. The curtains of the room were closed, candles lit. Night has fallen. She sighed. "You couldn't wake me?"

"No."

She stood from his bed, running a hand through her hair. "I dreamed. You and I were surrounded by these . . . _beings _with black eyes, with no way out."

"Oh?"

It didn't seem as though Loki was taking her seriously – and why would he? He has never had any reason to. Instead, he merely made himself more comfortable on the bed, crossing his arms as he stared at her.

"Yes. They looked Asguardian . . . but . . . they were feral." It was more difficult to describe than what she had thought. "It was as if . . . I don't know. But with hunched backs-"

This caught Loki's attention. "And claws?"

"Yes." She turned. "You know of them?"

"They were the intruders today. An attempt of terrorism."

"Terrorism?" Saraya scoffed. "Asgard works in war; we haven't heard of terrorism in hundreds of years."

He thought for a few seconds. "They were Asguardian, but they were not thinking. None of them remembered the attack once we ended it all. I would like to believe that they were of no known realm, but it seems that our brothers and sisters are beginning to turn on us."

"That is preposterous."

"You would believe as such, when in fact, it's truth?"

"For all we know, they could have been Jotuns in disguise! Odin knows-"

His glare could have killed her. "I _am_ Odin. And these _beasts_ are _not_ Jotun." He snapped.

She frowned, unaware that her tone suggested she believed they were. "It was a joke, Loki."

"Do not attempt humour again."

She nodded once, taking a seat back on the bed. There was silence between the two of them, for a moment; unbreakable. Loki was practically fuming – his jaw tight, his eyes hard, and he did not make eye contact with Saraya herself.

"Did you overcome your dilemma?"

He finally turned his head, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "I'm sorry?"

"Keeping Odin's form?"

He yawned. "No."

He didn't seem to want to discuss the issue further, and the more Saraya examined him, the more it was apparent that he hadn't had a lot of sleep. Taking a pure guess, Saraya would have said that it was the middle of the night – it makes sense, she supposed. She did fall asleep during the middle of the day, throwing her pattern off completely. Loki, however, apparently did not _have_ a pattern. This whole situation with his taking Odin's place as King might have started to get to him.

It would only be a matter of time before he slipped up and someone saw his true form. And at that day, Saraya didn't know if she would be relieved, or distraught. Her relationship with Loki was that of a complicated one. They were neither romantic partners, nor were they the greatest of friends. They certainly were not enemies, despite their attitudes to one another.

"Loki . . ." Her eyes flickered from him. "I am concerned."

"I gather that this is about my health?"

"It is much more than that." She ran her fingers through her hair, thinking about what she wanted to say before continuing. "In this dream . . . you were not so sure of yourself."

Loki rolled his eyes, and started taking off his attire – preparing for sleep, Saraya suspected. "Saraya, I know you _believe_ that dreams are 'visions of fate', but you must realize that I cannot possible become concerned with your dreams when I have more pressing matters at hand."

"Then I don't understand my _purpose here_!"

He sighed. "Your purpose here is to help me understand my problem with my form. When I know you will not go running to the first person you see to tell how I stole Odin's form, you may be set free."

"I thought you didn't need assistance?"

This was getting frustrating. It was at the stage where Saraya didn't think Loki even knew what he wanted with her. He claimed he needed her assistance, yet he refused her help.

"Saraya, let's discuss this tomorrow. I require sleep." He rubbed his eyes as he pulled back the covers of the bed.

"And what do you expect _me_ to do? I have already slept."

"Amuse yourself. Quietly."

And as the he turned off the lights, Saraya found herself in complete and utter darkness. Her own personal enemy. She could only mentally swear and curse at him, as she slowly and quietly made her way to the window. She could not turn on the light, perhaps, but she could make her own. A small set of candles were set on the window, unlit and waiting. Unfortunately, there was no match or lighter for them. And she had to admit that she couldn't muster the confidence to walk into the complete darkness.

At least here, by the window that was only partially lit, she could actually see her own hands. For all she knew, someone may have hidden themselves in the darkness of Loki's quarters.

That would be a nightmare for Saraya. Especially if that someone had gotten into these chambers simply to kill her.

It was at least an hour into the night with Saraya curled up as close to the window as possible, when she thought she heard a shuffling sound, and the small clink of something being dropped. She bit her tongue, positive it was her imagination, and didn't dare to look anywhere than out of the window. She was shaking. Was there someone else in the room? Was Loki trying to play a trick on her? Did the laws of physics temporarily shift just to deceive her?

So many questions.

And they were all answered when the light turned on.

Her eyes flashed to Loki's bed just in time to see a cloaked figure being tackled to the ground by the trickster, and Saraya couldn't hold back her scream any longer. This black-cloaked figure held a dagger in his hand, his head still somehow shielded with his hood.

"Who are you!?"

Not Loki's voice. He must have changed form in time before his attacker knew it was actually him.

The hooded figure didn't reply. He or she wasn't even struggling. Instead, they sat limp, Loki holding them down awaiting an explanation. None came. Were they unconscious?

Gingerly, Saraya stood, still weary. She whispered. "Loki?"

Without further hesitation, and possibly due to annoyance, the trickster knocked out his attacker.


End file.
